What I Did On My Winter Hiatus
by Cazzie
Summary: We catch up on what our favourite fugitives and their friends have been up to since the events of The Killing Box.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** What I Did On My Winter Hiatus  
**Author:** Cazzie  
**Summary:** We catch up on what our favourite fugitives and their friends have been up to since the events of The Killing Box. Not based on any spoilers.  
**Rating:** T. This fic contains scenes of a sexual nature and a few examples of bad language. But to be honest, if you're too young to be reading this you're too young to be watching Prison Break in the first place.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Prison Break. I am not making any money from this.

Now that that's all out of the way, on with the story….

* * *

"Dammit, Mike! I can't do it!"

"Yes you can. Come on, I'll help you."

"It's hopeless. I've been trying all my life and it's just not possible."

Of course it is. I do it, don't I?"

"But you're a genius; of course YOU can do it."

"I'm not giving up on you, Linc. Now let's try again. Start with the bottom one and move up."

Lincoln began buttoning his shirt.

First the bottom button, easy. Then the next, still doing well. Then came the third, here his hands began to shake and it took a couple of goes before the shirt came together. Michael held his breath in anticipation, hoping that this would be it, but like all the times before Lincoln stumbled on the next one. After a number of unsuccessful tries, he growled in frustration and threw his hands up.

"See! You see! It's impossible. I just can't do it."

"I can." The voice didn't belong to either of the brothers; rather it came from the man tied to a chair in the corner of the room.

"We weren't talking to you," Michael growled at the man.

"I'm just saying, maybe your brute of a brother needs to take a lesson from me." The man smirked evilly.

"Remind me why we didn't gag him?" Lincoln asked, not looking up from his intense concentration on his shirt.

"Because the bondage shop was all out," Michael answered logically. "And the rope was expensive enough as it is."

"Worth it though." The man spoke up evilly. "Feels like silk on my skin."

"Shame," Michael muttered.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I know?" The man spoke up evilly again. "After everything I've done I'd have thought you'd be desperate for me to reveal all my secrets."

"Ok, what are your secrets?" Michael decided to play along for a while.

"I like the movie Titanic and my middle name is Muriel."

"And that's why we haven't asked you," Michael muttered as he moved over to the desk to stare at his new phone. He'd called Sara six times in the last hour but she hadn't picked up. He'd left her messages asking her to call his new number but still no reply.

He was beginning to wonder if maybe he should entertain the possibility of perhaps being slightly worried.

"Oh, come on. Can't I have a little fun?" The man in the corner called out evilly. "I always imagined being tied up to be a lot more exciting than this. I have to do something to keep myself amused."

"Tell us what you know and maybe I'll give you a bouncy ball." Michael turned around to face him again. "For starters, who the hell are you?"

"I'm Agent Kellerman." The man paused evilly, waiting for a reaction. The brothers just blinked at him. "Kellerman! Come on, you can't tell me you don't know who I am. Lincoln, you know me right?"

"Huh?" Lincoln looked up, confused by the sudden interruption to his intense concentration. He'd nearly got the button touching the hole that time. "Sorry, man. Never heard of you."

Kellerman looked evilly distraught. "Never? What about last year when I almost killed you?"

Lincoln shrugged.

"You're kidding me right? You're freaking kidding me." Kellerman's evil voice rose in evil volume with each passing evil word. "I have been the bane of your existence these past two years! I was instrumental in having you sentenced to death for a murder you didn't commit! I shot your son's stepfather right in the heart and framed LJ for the murder of his own mother! I tried to kill you! I tried to kill you and you don't even remember me? That hurts, man. It really does."

"Sucks to be you, I guess." Lincoln returned his attention to his buttons.

Kellerman began to cry. Evilly.

……

Sara Tancredi was rummaging through a bin. She knew she must look like a hobo with her torn clothes and current activity but she didn't care. That lip gloss was discontinued for god's sake and there was no way she was just going to leave it there.

She sighed in annoyance. This was all Michael's fault. If he hadn't asked her to leave the door open for him, thereby drawing her into his world of deception and conspiracies, her father would never have been killed, she would never have been shot at, she'd never have had to go on the run, never have met up with Michael, never have left him only to decide to go back, never have been picked up by Not-Lance and been tortured for hours before escaping, never have hacked her hair off and never have thrown away her old life. And so she never would have accidentally thrown away her favourite lip gloss at the same time.

Her hand grasped a small round object and she pulled it out triumphantly. Only to grimace in disgust and drop it quickly.

Her search continued.

……

Back in the hotel room, Kellerman had finished his little display of emotion and was back to full blown evilness. He had just finished explaining his situation in The Company as it now stood.

"…and so that's why I want to get back at President Reynolds. I can't bear to spend the rest of my life as a man called Owen who sells jerky."

"Understandable," Michael agreed. "But I am curious as to how you plan to be our inside man when you're very much outside of the conspiracy now."

"I…" Kellerman paused evilly. "…hadn't thought of that."

……

Sucre skipped happily through the Mexican desert before realising that he was in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no means of transport or any idea where anything was.

Crap.

……

C-Note was not happy. His wife had just been arrested and would most likely be going to prison for aiding and abetting a fugitive.

He had drawn up preliminary ideas for finding a way to have himself thrown into the same prison, where he could then dig a hole behind the toilet and break the two of them out. After all, it had worked once before.

Now came the hard part – actually implementing his plan.

……

Many thoughts went through Susan Hollander's head when she noticed her ex-boyfriend standing on her doorstep. The foremost was why hadn't she looked to see who it was before opening the freaking door. You'd think she would be careful about things like that, what with her murderous ex who had explicitly told her he was going to come back for her having just broken out of prison. But no, Susan wasn't too smart.

And for that, T-Bag was grateful. After all, he didn't do breaking and entering. That was just far too beneath a big time criminal like him.

He stood on the doorstep perfecting his creepiness. He was very proud of it and always had to make sure everything was just right – his voice, his stance, his expression.

While he was doing that, Susan shut the door.

T-Bag swore under his breath and rang the doorbell again.

"Who is it?" Susan called from inside.

"Food delivery man," T-Bag called back.

"Oh thank goodness." Susan opened the door. "My ex was just here and…"

T-Bag smiled.

……

Sara lifted her hand in success. Her lip gloss was back in her possession. She opened her bag to store it safely away and noticed the phone she hadn't thrown away, the one she had bought with Michael.

"Ten missed called?" Sara murmured, dialling the number for her mailbox.

"Hey, Sara. It's me, uh, Michael. Just calling to see what's up. Uh, call me back on this number."

"Hey Sara, me again. Say, you don't happen to have a USB drive with you, do you? Call me."

"Sara, hi. Where are you?"

"Geez, turn your phone on once in a while, will you?"

"Congratulations! You are our million dollar prize winner! To collect your winnings, dial this number and CALL ME BACK."

"Saaaaaarrrrrrraaaaa. Oh, Saaaaaarrrrraaaaa. Caaaaallllll Miiiiicccchhhhaaaeeellll."

"Doc? It's Lincoln. Mike wanted me to try to call again while he's busy talking to this guy we picked up. Wait a sec… Oh, the guy wants to know if you want some pie? Wait, what…?"

"Hey, it's me again. What's the deal with you and this Kellerman guy? Did you cheat on me while I was on the run? I can't believe you!"

"Uh…sorry about that last message. I got a bit more information out of him and, well, sorry. By the way, nice work with the iron."

"Are you ignoring me? I said I was sorry."

The beep signalling the end of all the messages caught Sara slightly off guard and she lowered the phone slowly, trying to make sense of everything.

The first thought that ran though her head was that Not-Lance was with Michael and his name was actually Kellerman. The second thought was that Michael could be really, really clingy.

She moved into a deserted alley and dialled the number of the previous calls.

……

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

First of all, a huge thank you to **awesomepants**, **Imzadi** and **MiSa-PizVe**. Reviews make me so very happy and I'm really glad you're enjoying the story.

So now, without further ado, I present chapter two…

* * *

All three men in the hotel room jumped at the sound of the phone. Michael hurried over to the desk and grabbed it.

"Sara?" He all but cried out into the phone.

"It's me." The voice on the other end confirmed.

"Oh, thank goodness." Michael leaned his head back in relief. "Where are you?"

"I'm not sure, still near Gila I think. Where are you?"

"Albuquerque. We're heading out though, can you come meet us?"

"Where?"

Michael looked around conspiratorially and lowered his voice, "In the narcissistic town where light-hearted play loses y to a."

"What the hell?"

"Where Allison is no me, but everything is backwards."

"In English, Michael?"

He sighed. "Where the Spanish agree in the middle of…"

"Oh for crying out loud Michael, just tell me."

"Mesilla. I want us to meet in Mesilla, ok?" Michael snapped into the phone. "Forgive me if I like to keep things covert."

"There's covert and there's jibberish." Sara snapped back. "And don't pretend you're just doing this because of people listening in. I remember all those times in the infirmary when you would whisper sweet nothings in my ear in morse code."

"But…"

"And let's not forget those binary love letters you kept leaving on my desk. Or how whenever I asked how you were feeling you answered with anagrams."

"I like puzzles." Michael pouted.

"Fine," Sara sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, puzzle-boy."

With that she hung up.

……

"Hey, do you want to sleep with my dad?"

If Jane was shocked by her young charge's question, she didn't show it. She didn't even take her eyes off the road as she continued to drive the two of them down the highway.

"What makes you say that, LJ?"

"Well, it's just that you're the only female we've come across in, like, forever and I know that Uncle Mike has dibs on that doctor lady he's always talking about, so I thought that maybe you were around to get with my father."

"Really? Tell me, is head-butting considered mating-behaviour by convicts nowadays?"

"Oh yeah. Means he likes you. A lot."

Jane just smiled.

"And where exactly are we going, anyway?" LJ spoke up again.

"Disneyland."

"I'm serious."

"Me too, I've always wanted to see Mickey Mouse. After that I suppose we can go to the place your uncle told me about."

LJ stared at her, trying desperately to see any sign that she was joking but eventually realising that she was deadly serious.

"Uhh… couldn't we, you know, do that first? I mean we are being chased by a lot of people. People who want to kill us."

Jane's head whipped around so quickly, LJ jumped back in surprise.

"We. Are. Going. To. See. Mickey. ALL RIGHT?" Her entire expression was one of solid fury and determination and LJ found himself more than a little tempted to bail out of the car right then and there.

"O-ok…" He nodded quickly, not wanting to anger her further. He just hoped that she'd be satisfied with a quick visit.

……

Sucre walked a bit further through the desert. It was getting late and would be very cold soon but he still hadn't found any signs of life.

Just as he began to give up hope, he heard a car in the distance. His heart lifting like so many helium filled balloons, he waved his arms.

"Hey! Over here!"

The car turned to drive towards him and he almost fainted with relief when it slowed to a stop. That feeling however, was soon replaced by shock.

"Maricruz?" He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Fernando!" Maricruz jumped out of the car and into his arms.

"What a highly improbable yet incredibly useful for the sake of the storyline coincidence!" he cried happily.

At that very moment, another car pulled up. This one also slowed to a stop and a man emerged, twirling his very large moustache.

"Hector!" Sucre narrowed his eyes, pushing Maricruz behind him protectively.

"Fernando." Hector sneered slightly. "We meet at last."

Sucre frowned in confusion, this was his cousin after all, but what the hell. "I will not allow you to take her," he announced. Maricruz swooned slightly.

"You cannot stop me. For I have…" Hector reached into belt, causing the other two people to tense in fear. "A banana!"

"Huh?" Sucre and Maricruz relaxed, each wearing identical expressions of confusion.

"No, wait." Hector moved the banana into his coat pocket and pointed it at the two of them. "I mean… I have a gun!"

Sucre and Maricruz gasped in fear.

"Oh, Fernando," Maricruz cried. "Is this the end for us and our love?"

"Never!" Sucre replied dramatically. "Our love will never die, for my heart is filled with pashion."

Maricruz swooned again.

"Enough!" Hector shouted. "Hand over the girl, Fernando."

"You will have to shoot me first." Sucre stood firm and unwavering. Maricruz swooned a bit more.

"Very well, then." Hector pulled the trigger.

……

It was evening in Fox River. The cells were locked and everyone was trapped.

For Brad Bellick, this wouldn't have been so bad were it not for the identity of the man he was trapped with. Avocado hadn't spoken to him since his arrival, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

He was right.

"Hey fish." The voice came from above him. "I've got something for you."

Bellick swallowed in fear. This was it, he was going to die. If he was lucky.

"Why don't you hold it for me?" Avocado continued, moving closer to the smaller man. "Here."

Bellick closed his eyes, only to open them again when he felt something large and soft being shoved into his hands. He looked down at the bundle of wool and back up at his cellmate quizzically.

"What's this?"

"What do you think?" Avocado leered at him. "It's my knitting. Helps me relax."

He picked up his knitting needles and continued work on the scarf he was making for his mother while Bellick dutifully held his wool.

……

It was getting dark in Mexico. Sucre, Maricruz and Hector hadn't moved from their positions.

"So…uh… what now?" Sucre asked no one in particular.

"I shot you. You're dead." Hector whined. "I win, Maricruz is mine and you're dead."

"I don't think so." Sucre squinted. "I think we need to, like, duel for her love or something."

"Can we do it in the morning? I'm cold." Maricruz spoke up from behind Sucre.

The two men murmured agreement.

"We should probably go find a hotel," Sucre pointed out. "Why don't Maricruz and I go ahead and look for one and you can follow behind."

"Sounds good. But you're getting separate bedrooms." Hector pointed at the two accusingly. "At least until this thing is settled."

……

The next morning, Sara began her journey to Mesilla. She made sure to buy a paper first though. After all, a woman on the run needed to keep up with current events. There could well be a story about her father or herself or any of the escapees from Fox River. It was important to have as much information as possible.

But first she just had to do the crossword.

"Hmm, cryptic or quick?" She murmured to herself, settling into her seat on the bus.

……

Susan was scared. She was more than scared, she was terrified. Her psycho ex-boyfriend had been in her house for over twelve hours now and he showed no sign of leaving. This was torture, no this was worse than torture.

She held her son and daughter closer to her, trying to protect them from the depravity.

"And what's the deal with Wal-Mart?" T-Bag drawled from his position in front of the sofa that his, literally, captive audience were sitting on. "I gotta ask, do we really need to be greeted every time we go for a bit of shopping. Seems like overkill to me. Speaking of killing, did y'all hear the one about the guy who killed his lawyer? He was awarded for services to the community!"

T-Bag threw out his arms and opened his mouth in the universal sign for a punch line. Susan and her children laughed weakly. Would the torment never end?

……

C-Note threw the newspaper down in frustration. His wife had been tried, convicted and sent to prison in the space of a few days. Court cases sure moved fast around here.

He had been forced to step up his plan. The first phase was complete – dropping Dee Dee off at conveniently placed relatives who he instinctively knew wouldn't turn him in and who would disappear into the ether once they were no longer needed.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself for what he was about to do. He had made the decision that since Michael's plan had worked so well, it was probably best if he stick to it as closely as possible. Walking into the bank, he raised the gun above his head and fired.

"All right, everybody on the floor now!"

Everyone calmly complied with his request and he made his way over to the counter.

"You, put all the money in a bag. Now."

"Certainly, ma'am," the woman chirped happily. "This may take a while, we have quite a bit of cash on the premises."

C-Note tried to look annoyed at this, but inside was grateful for the delay. It would give the police plenty of time to apprehend him.

A few minutes passed, during which time C-Note fiddled with his gun and thought about the best way of surrendering. One thing he definitely wanted to avoid was being shot, and he knew that that was a very real possibility unless he made it absolutely clear that he was giving up.

And even then there were no guarantees.

"Hey, I know you." One of the hostages looked up at him. C-Note froze, if he was busted this would all be over. He'd be sent back to Fox River and nowhere near his wife.

"Yeah…you're that actress, whatshername, Queen Latifah!"

"Hey! There's no way that I'm…" He began to argue, but was cut off by another voice.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I have your cash." The lady behind the counter handed a large bag over to C-Note. "Thank you for doing business with us, have a nice day."

"Uh…" C-Note took the bag and looked around uncertainly. "Well….good. Great." He moved slowly to the door, straining to hear sirens in the distance but failing to make out anything that would even suggest the approach of police cars.

Walking down the street, dressed in drag and carrying a bag full of dollars, C-Note swore to himself. This wasn't going according to plan.

……

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Once again, many thanks to my wonderful reviewers and welcome to the party **Nicky007**. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and keep reviewing. It feeds my soul.

So… are we all excited about the return of Prison Break tomorrow? Or, if you're in the UK, episode 2.02? Thank goodness for the internet!

But never mind that now, on with the story!

* * *

Down in Mesilla, New Mexico, Sara stepped down from the bus and tried to work out where Michael would meet her. Looking at the children's fun map in the bus station window, she concluded that he would take longer than her to arrive and so she had time for a nice cup of coffee and perhaps a muffin while she waited.

Making her way to the nearest Starbucks, she thought about what she was going to say when she met up with the guys. And which one of them she was going to slap round the head first.

……

Down in Mexico proper, Sucre had just woken up from a good night's sleep. He rolled over in bed and stretched before suddenly remembering where he was and why.

Sitting up abruptly he looked at the clock on the bedside table and panicked. He threw his clothes on and ran out the room, flying down the stairs and into the small dining area where Maricruz and Hector were sitting together.

"Oh…thank….goodness…" Sucre panted, out of breath from his quick burst of energy. "I thought….I'd missed….breakfast."

After catching his breath, he went over to grab some toast and orange juice and brought it to the table.

Hector had already finished his breakfast, but Maricruz was still nibbling on her cornflake and peanut butter bagel.

Sucre made a face at her choice of food but she simply stared back at him as if daring him to say anything that could set her off. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut. Except to eat his own breakfast, of course.

Once the meal was over, the trio made their way outside to begin the duel for the fair maiden. Since no one had thought to bring any kind of weapons, they had to make do with what they had. Which was bananas. Hector still had his trusty side-fruit from yesterday and Sucre picked one up at breakfast.

Since it had already been demonstrated that the weapon in question was not much use as a pistol, the decision was made to brandish them as swords and duel in that way.

Sucre and Hector stood facing each other, with Maricruz in between them but a few steps back.

"All right gentlemen," she began. "This will be a duel to first blood, or until one participant is so injured that they are unable to continue." The two men nodded their understanding so she continued. "On your marks, get set, DUEL!"

Sucre and Hector lunged at each other, their bananas clashing in midair with a resoundingly dull thud. Pulling back, they lashed out again, and again. It was a truly glorious duel, the likes of which human kind has not witnessed since the golden age of sword fighting. The footwork, almost choreographed in its execution, and breathtaking swordplay brought to mind that fateful meeting of Lord Kinloss and Sir Edward Sackville those many centuries ago.

Maricruz gasped with every thrust of the banana, desperately hoping that her beloved Fernando would not be too badly injured. Both men were gleaming with sweat, and exhaustion showed in their countenances yet they continued on. Both were determined that nothing short of death would keep them from the woman they loved, despite the supposedly non-fatal nature of the duel.

"OW!" Suddenly Hector let out a heart wrenching cry. "You hit my knuckles!" He shook his hand in the air, as though to dull the pain.

"Do you concede?" Sucre stared at the man, keeping his banana out defensively in case the answer was no.

"Never." Hector brought his hand back in front of him. "But I would like an ice pack when this is over."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Sucre began to circle his prey, Hector doing the same. "In fact, perhaps we should all go out for ice cream as well."

"Only if I can have scoops of two different flavours." Hector thrust forward but was easily deflected by Sucre.

"Chocolate and vanilla?" Sucre feinted an attack but pulled back at the last second, leaving Hector slightly off balance, before he moved in again.

"Chocolate and strawberry." Hector replied, only just moving out of the way in time.

"Never!" Sucre cried. And with that he put all his energy in to one final attack. His aim was true and the banana smashed straight into Hector's chest.

His love rival fell to his knees, grasping at the mess on his shirt. "No…" he whispered. "It can't be."

"I win, Hector. Maricruz is mine."

The woman in question ran over to embrace her gallant hero.

"Oh Fernando, I was so scared. I thought I would lose you forever."

"Fear not, my love." Sucre held her close. "It will take more than that to tear me from your arms."

Maricruz swooned once more. "By the way, did you mean what you said about going out for ice cream? Cos I could really go for some right now. With pickles."

……

C-Note sat on a park bench, his head in his hands and a sack of money at his feet. Now what was he going to do? How could he get his wife out of prison if he couldn't even get himself in? Jumping to his feet he paced the length of the bench, finally kicking it in frustration.

"Excuse me ma'am." A voice came from his right so he turned to find a nervous looking park ranger approaching him. "That bench is park property."

"So?" C-Note asked wearily.

"So, it's illegal to vandalise park property."

"I wasn't…" C-Note paused, then turned more fully towards the other man. "I mean, what are you going to do about it? Huh?" He kicked the bench a couple more times for good measure.

"Now… now ma'am calm down." The park ranger backed away. "Or I will be forced to call the police."

"You do that." C-Note continued to kick the bench. "I'll just be here, vandalising away. That's me, a no-good punk vandal."

The park ranger pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Uh, Jim? This is Randy. I've got a lady here vandalising park property."

"What's she doing?" The voice came crackling through loud and clear, although not nearly concerned enough for C-Note's liking.

"Kicking a bench," Randy answered back.

"Oh for the love of… Just tell her to stop."

"I tried that, she won't listen to me."

"Well try harder. And stop bothering me with crap like this." The voice was clearly annoyed.

C-Note hurried over to grab the walkie-talkie out of Randy's hand. "Wait, I'm a serious vandal. I'm going to destroy your bench and…. And cut down your trees. Yeah, if you don't send someone out to arrest me I'm going to cut down these really old and valuable trees."

"Who is this?" The voice asked suspiciously. "Randy, what's going on?"

"This is the lady who's going to destroy your nice little park if you don't send some cops down here right now." C-Note all but shouted. "And Randy can't talk right now; he's too busy pissing his pants because he knows how serious I am."

"Hey!" Randy protested this slur on his character but was quickly silenced by a look from C-Note. .

"Fine, I'll send someone down." The voice relented. "But if this turns out to be a waste of time, I'm going to see to it that you lose your badge Randy."

"Thank you. And it's not." C-Note clicked the walkie-talkie off and sat back on the bench waiting for the police to show up. Randy eyed him nervously, uncertain what to do now.

"Hey." C-Note called out to get his attention. "You don't think I look like Queen Latifah, do you?"

……

Michael, Lincoln and Kellerman drove into the town of Mesilla later than planned. After parking the car, Michael instructed the other two to remain there while he went to find Sara.

"How do you even know where she's going to be?" Lincoln asked the obvious question.

"She told me, using a secret code we devised together that involves using the third letter of every word that begins with a consonant and the last letter of those that begin with a vowel and cycling them through the alphabet based on the number of letters in the word."

"Dude, seriously?" Lincoln was amazed.

"No. I just know she's addicted to caffeine." Michael shrugged as he headed towards the Starbucks they'd passed on their way in.

"I thought she was addicted to morphine?" Kellerman asked Lincoln evilly.

"Eh, Caffeine, morphine. Same thing really."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's a little known fact that everything that ends with the 'ine' sound has drugs in it. Why do you think Listerine is so popular?"

……

To Be Continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Loads of thanks to my loyal reviewers, and a warm welcome to **ObsessedTWFan**. Hope you stick around.

**Imzadi **- Sorry, still no Haywire. But I promise he will appear next chapter and we'll find out where exactly he ended up.

* * *

Sure enough, when Michael walked in he saw Sara sitting at a table near the back, numerous coffee cups surrounding her and a paper lying on the table. Silently, he made his way over to sit in the chair opposite her.

"I'm not done!" Sara cried, her hand shooting out to grab her current cup.

"Fine with me." Michael held his hands up in surrender.

"Oh, sorry." Sara glanced up at him. "Hey, puzzle boy!"

Michael groaned. "Are you really going to stick with that? I'm sorry, all right?"

"No, no, I was just wondering if you knew a five letter word for bright or intense?"

"Vivid."

"YES!" Sara triumphantly filled in the last word on her crossword. "All done! Ooh, I love you puzzle boy!"

Michael began to think that maybe the nickname wasn't so bad after all.

……

Sucre and Maricruz lay in bed together in their hotel room, thinking about the future.

"So have you given any thought to my aunt's farm?" Sucre idly traced patterns on his girlfriend's arm.

"With the llama?" She smiled up at him.

"Mmm hmm. But if you don't like that idea we could go to Panama instead."

"What's in Panama?"

"Oh, just some old friends."

"Good friends?"

"Very." He leaned down to kiss her.

Maricruz smiled widely when he finally withdrew from her. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?"

……

C-Note stood abruptly when he noticed two uniformed police officers approaching him with another park ranger in tow.

"Is this the lady?" The male police officer looked to Randy for confirmation and he nodded.

"Ma'am?" This time the female officer spoke, addressing C-Note. "We've received a complaint alleging that you've been vandalising park property."

"Yes! Yes I have!" C-Note almost shouted in excitement.

"What's your name, ma'am?"

"C-No….uh,…Cenilia. Cenilia Jones."

"Cenilia? That's an interesting name."

"It's…. Swahili. It means 'beautiful bird'."

"Well then, Cenilia. We're going to let you off with a warning this time but…"

"No!" C-Note cut her off. "I mean, you'll never stop me! I'll burn down this whole park and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"Ma'am please…"

"I'm serious!" He patted the pockets of his dress. "I know I have a lighter here somewhere. Soon this whole place will be nothing but ash."

The woman sighed in resignation. "All right, that's enough. You're under arrest."

Internally, C-Note did a little dance of joy as he was handcuffed and read his rights. Finally, he was getting somewhere!

……

"Hello Sara."

"Oh god, not you again."

It was obvious to the brothers that the reunion between Kellerman and Sara was not a happy one, but they didn't have time to worry about that now.

"Come on, we need to hurry. Sara, in the back." Michael directed her as he climbed back into the driver's seat.

"What?" She shrieked. "I am NOT sitting next to him."

"Aw, come on. It'll be fun." Kellerman taunted her evilly.

"Bite me."

"With pleasure."

"Children, please!" Michael cried in frustration. "We don't have time for this. Sara just sit down, he's tied up anyway."

She took a closer look and saw that, indeed, Kellerman's hands and feet were tightly bound. Still not entirely happy about the situation but feeling slightly better than before, she took her own seat and clicked her seatbelt into place.

"Thank you." Michael started the car and they were on their way again.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Kellerman smirked evilly and spoke up. "So, have you missed me Sara? We did have such fun together. Perhaps you'd like a repeat performance?"

Still looking straight ahead, Sara brought her arm up and swung it back in a wide arc, whacking Kellerman right in his iron burn.

One voice screamed in pain, causing identical smirks to break out on three other faces.

……

The two police officers brought C-Note to the nearest station. As they walked in, people started whispering and pointing.

"Is it?"

"Could it be?"

"No…surely not."

"Hey Brian." The male officer approached the desk. "We got a lady here caught vandalising park property."

Brian merely stared slack-jawed at the people in front of him.

"Hey, buddy! Anybody home?" The policeman waved his hand in front of the other man's face jovially.

"You… you… You're Queen Latifah!" Brian blurted out, star-struck by the day's turn of events.

"I thought you said you name was Cenilia Jones?" The policewoman asked in confusion.

"Duh!" Brian spoke up before C-Note had a chance to. "It's an alias! She's not going to give out her real name, is she?"

"Wow! You mean I arrested a real life celebrity?" The woman grinned. "Hey, do you think you can take our picture together?"

"I'm not Queen Latifah!" C-Note cried out.

"Sure you're not! Brian scoffed. "You expect us to believe that Cenilia Jones is a real name?"

"It's Swahili!"

"Of course it is." The officers all laughed as C-Note felt his heart sink. This couldn't end well.

……

"Hey, Michael. How exactly are you planning on getting us into Mexico?" Lincoln asked the main question that had been on the minds of three of the occupants of the car for some time now.

Michael shot his brother a withering look. "I have a way, don't worry your pretty little head about it. In fact, we're almost there."

He pulled the car off the main road and drove down a dirt track for a mile or so before stopping and jumping out of the vehicle.

His passengers looked on with curiosity as he approached a clump of conveniently placed bushes and pulled something out.

"Voila!"

"A hot air balloon?" Lincoln blinked. "We're escaping the country in a hot air balloon?"

"Yeah, it'll be great!" Michael enthused. "Come look!"

Sara and Lincoln exited the car and slowly walked over to where Michael was standing and waited for him to continue.

"See what I've done?" He pointed to a contraption on the balloon's basket. "Look, I've used a propeller, some elastic bands, a toothbrush, three plastic bottles, some bubble wrap and my tattoo of the devil to create a perfect flying machine!"

"Wasn't there an easier way to do this? Or would that be too difficult for you?" Sara asked warily.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's just that you always make everything more complicated than it needs to be."

"That's not true, is it Linc?" Michael looked to his brother for support.

"Well, there was that door in the prison that led outside. I kept telling you I had the key but you insisted on following your tunnel plan." Lincoln shrugged.

"Oh." Michael looked down. "This is like the puzzle obsession, isn't it?"

Lincoln and Sara nodded in unison.

"I wonder if they have meetings for this kind of thing?"

……

Once again, the speedy legal system was in C-Note's favour.

"Cenilia Jones, a.k.a. Queen Latifah, charged with vandalism." The judge read out, sounding bored.

"Uh, vandalism and aggravated robbery your honour." C-Note spoke up.

"What? I don't have anything about that here…" The judge shuffled her papers in confusion.

"Yeah, I'm just confessing to it now. And I'd like to plead guilty, so if we could just move on to the sentencing part that would be great."

"Well… uh… this is highly unorthodox… I'm not sure I can…"

"Look, just send me to Lyman Women's Correctional Facility. For however long you want. Ok?"

"Uh…ok."

Success! Maybe looking like a celebrity had its advantages after all.

……

It didn't take C-Note long to find his wife in prison.

"Kacee!" He pulled her into a tight hug. "Baby, I am so glad to see you!"

Kacee pulled back in confusion. "Queen Latifah? How do you know my name?"

"No baby, it's me." He lowered his voice. "Ben. I'm here to break you out."

"You what? Are you crazy!"

"Shhhh!" C-Note looked around at all the faces that were now watching them curiously. "Not so loud. It's ok, I have a plan."

"A plan?"

"Yeah… a damn good one. It involves toilets."

……

To Be Continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the next chapter. Hopefully this one will satisfy a number of you. Originally I didn't have anything more with T-Bag but due to popular demand I've added another scene for him. This is also when we finally find out just where Haywire has ended up, which should hopefully please **Imazdi** and Paul. (Not the evil one.)

Thanks to all my reviewers and a warm welcome to **storytellers** and **jennaml2709**. If there's anyone else reading this it would be great to hear from you too.

* * *

Michael directed the hot air balloon to the co-ordinates hidden in his left armpit using the GPS device he'd fashioned out of bubble gum and lollipop sticks. 

As soon as they landed, he made his way over to some more conveniently placed bushes and pulled them aside to reveal a car.

"What the hell?" Lincoln looked taken aback. "How come I didn't see that from the air?"

"Bushes hide everything, Linc. No matter how hard you look. To be honest, I think they're magical."

Lincoln nodded his head in acceptance. "So what's the plan from here on out?"

"We meet up with Sucre and LJ then head to Panama and live the good life."

"Wait a minute! What about bringing down President Reynolds and the conspiracy?" Kellerman protested evilly.

"Yeah, I don't think we're gonna do that. Too much work." Michael shrugged.

"But… but that was the whole reason I joined up with you! Why'd you bring me all the way here if you had no intention of using my help to bring down the conspiracy?"

"You seemed so determined to come along, I didn't have the heart to refuse."

"Great. Now what I am supposed to do?"

"Hitchhike?"

"I mean about Reynolds!"

"Oh. I don't know. Good luck with it though." Michael gave him the thumbs up before heading to the car with Lincoln and Sara in tow.

"Will you at least untie me first?" Kellerman called out desperately. And evilly.

"No." The harmony of the three voices caused them all to smile slightly before they climbed into the car and drove away, leaving evil Kellerman evilly tied up in the middle of nowhere in Meixco.

How evil.

……

In the Hollander household, T-Bag had decided to demonstrate his versatility as an entertainer.

"Now, you know something. Y'all are a wonderful audience, so wonderful in fact that I think you should be part of the show. May I have a volunteer please?"

Susan and her children seemed to shrink further back into the sofa.

"Now come on, don't be shy. How about you little lady?" He held his hand out to Gracey and pouted slightly when she recoiled in fear. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to show you how you can walk through a postcard."

He pulled the aforementioned object from his pocket and showed it dramatically to his audience.

"Now, you probably think I'm crazy, don't you?" He didn't give his audience a chance to voice the fact that they thought he was completely nuts for reasons that had nothing to do with his little act. "But I bet you that I can walk through this here postcard no problem."

"If you don't, will you let us go?" Zach called out boldly.

"Ah, a sense of humour over here. Well then, if that's what you want. If I can't walk through the postcard, you'll all be free to go. But if, on the other hand, I can perform this amazing feat… your mother agrees to marry me."

Susan and her children turned an interesting shade of green.

T-Bag smirked and produced a pair of scissors with a flourish. Under the watchful eyes of the small family he began carefully cutting the postcard in the proper places.

"And, voila!" He pulled the sides of the postcard apart sharply and watched in confusion as it fell to pieces in his hands.

The others watched the bits of card flutter to the floor before returning their gazes to the irritated man standing in front of them.

"So does this mean we can go now?" Zach asked hopefully.

"No."

"So you lied."

"And if that's the worst thing I do today, you should consider yourselves blessed. Now, what's the deal with airline food?"

……

Haywire felt himself be jolted awake as the raft he had been sailing in ran ashore. Finally.

Eagerly he scrambled onto the land, searching desperately for a windmill that he could make his home. Unfortunately for him, all he saw was endless fields of shamrocks.

He didn't notice anyone else around and so was shocked when he felt a tap on his knee. Looking down in surprise, he realised why he had failed to notice the man before. The fellow in question was short and dressed almost entirely in green, blending in perfectly with the fields, although some red hair was visible from underneath his cap.

"Greetings boy-o, what brings ye to this land of ours?" The man asked in a heavy accent.

"Where am I?" Haywire looked around in wonder. And just a little craziness.

"You ever heard of the Emerald Isle? St Patrick and all that?"

"I'm in Ireland?"

"No laddie, you be in the land of Irish Stereotypes. I'm Paddy the Leprechaun, at your service. Ahhh, begorah."

"Oh. Can you tell me how to get to this place," Haywire pulled the stolen picture out of his jumpsuit. "To Holland."

"Ah, ye don't wanna go there boy-o, you wanna go to the land of Dutch stereotypes instead." The leprechaun bounced around happily. "Every other building is a sex shop, ya know. And you can't move for all the windmills and tulips."

"Really? How can I get there?" As long as there were windmills, Haywire was happy.

"Follow me. We can grab a Guinness along the way!" The leprechaun skipped off through the fields, not looking back to see if he was actually being followed or not.

Without much consideration, Haywire skipped after him.

……

"Are you ok with this plan?" Michael looked over at Sara in concern. "I know you weren't exactly, uh, receptive to it the last time I told you about Panama."

"Well, you know what they say. Nothing like a bit of near drowning to change your mind about running away to a Central American country and hiding out with wanted fugitives for the rest of your life."

"Who says THAT?" Lincoln's voice filtered back from the driver's seat.

"I do." Sara snapped in response.

"Good enough for me." Michael grinned. "Oh, and we're gonna be doing it, right?"

"Oh, yeah." She nodded emphatically.

"Excellent." He leaned forward to whisper to his brother. "Dude, I'm so going to score tonight!"

Lincoln rolled his eyes and continued driving. He couldn't wait to meet up with Jane again, it had been far too long since he'd got any and being outdone by his little brother was just… sad.

……

Maricruz hadn't been overly impressed by the house Sucre had taken her to, but he assured her that it was just temporary and once they met up with his friends they'd be on their way to Panama.

And considering the way he had talked so highly about the man he had shared a cell with she wasn't surprised when her boyfriend ran out of the front door at the sound of a car engine.

Nor was she surprised at the sight of him embracing said man when she reached the door herself.

"It's good to see you papi!" Sucre said as he pulled back from his friend.

"Likewise." Michael smiled back.

"Hey, Linc!" Sucre moved away to shake the other man's hand before his gaze fell on Sara. "Doc! What happened to your hair!?"

Michael and Lincoln turned to her in surprise. "You did something to your hair?" Michael asked in amazement.

"Yes! And I'm glad SOMEONE noticed. Finally!"

"Oh, well, it looks good. Suits you." Michael stammered.

"Save it, puzzle boy. You're still getting laid tonight."

"Oh thank goodness." He heaved a large sigh of relief but immediately regretted it after seeing her expression. "I mean… you're so pretty."

Sara rolled her eyes and walked into the house, leaving the men, two smirking and one nervous, in her wake.

Soon afterwards, proper introductions were made and it wasn't long before Maricruz and Sara disappeared into another room to discuss lip gloss while the men talked about manly things.

Manly as in they teased Linc mercilessly about his lack of a girlfriend.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	6. Chapter 6

This is it everybody, the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this to the end, especially those who have taken time to review. I hope you've all had fun reading this story.

Zoro – I do believe this is the first time anyone has thought my name could be male. Usually I manage to avoid the widespread gender confusion problem that it so often found online. In case anyone is wondering, it's short for Caroline. A name that I feel honoured to share with the evil President Reynolds.

And finally, I have to say, _Chicago_ was quite possibly the best episode I've seen so far and I'm still reeling from the absolute awesomeness that it radiated from beginning to end. But for now, on with the story...

* * *

To say that Kacee Franklin had not been impressed by her husband's actions would have been an understatement. He pulled her into as private a place as he could find in prison and attempted to explain. 

"Baby, this is going to work. Trust me." He held his hands together in front of him, imploringly.

"Trust you?" She practically screeched. "You have a plan that involves toilets for God's sake! How the hell am I supposed to trust you?"

"Because it worked once before. This is how Michael broke me out, look," he pulled his shirt up, "I have everything I need right here."

Kacee stared at the crudely drawn markings, which had 'You Are Here' on his upper right shoulder and a star obviously marking their destination on the left side of his waist. Covering his chest was a maze, much like one found in a children's puzzle book, with a winding path drawn between the two marks.

"How the hell is that supposed to help us?"

"Ain't it obvious?" He rolled his eyes dramatically. "We just need to follow the path and we'll be home free."

"What path? Ben, there's nothing here!"

"Hey, I went to a lot of trouble organising this. Do you know what I went through just to break you out? Getting a chest-full of tattoos ain't a walk in the park, you know!"

"That's not a tattoo, it's Magic Marker!"

"Well ok, I'm scared of needles. But it was still hard drawing this on myself! And what to I get for my efforts? Nothing! Not even a thank you!"

"Well maybe next time you should think things through a bit more." Kacee turned to leave. "That's it. I'm getting myself a girlfriend."

C-Note closed his mouth on the reply that he had originally formed. "Can I watch?"

……

Down in Mexico, Sucre and Maricruz were once again cuddled together in bed following a round of love making that had had Michael and Sara competing in the volume stakes and Lincoln wishing he was deaf.

"Baby, you know I love you right?" Sucre leaned his head to look into his girlfriend's face.

Maricruz laughed softly. "After what we just did, Fernando, I sure hope so."

"Well, I wanted to ask your opinion on something." He seemed nervous, which made Maricruz sit up a little. "How do you feel about… swapping?"

"Swapping?" Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah, you know, partner swapping. A bit of fun, mixing it up a little. You and me, Michael and Sara."

"Are you saying you want to sleep with Sara?" Maricruz frowned.

"No!" Sucre hurried to dispel that notion. "No…. I'm asking if YOU want to sleep with Sara."

"Oh….OH!" Maricruz felt her eyes widen in shock. "So… you mean… you and Michael?"

"He's a really, REALLY good friend."

……

It was a few days before LJ and Jane showed up, which had been hard on Lincoln. Not only was he worried about his son's safety but the sounds emanating from the other bedrooms at night were threatening to drive him completely insane.

The occupants of the house went out to greet the new arrivals, not expecting the Mickey Mouse ears that adorned both their heads.

"Dad!" LJ ran to his father. "I am so glad to see you!"

"Good to see you too son, did Jane take good care of you?"

LJ lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. "She's nuts, Dad. We almost got kicked out of Disneyland because she felt up Mickey Mouse! And she wouldn't let me take this hat off. At all."

Lincoln looked up in shock as Jane approached the group.

"Hey everyone! Look what I got!" She held up a plush Mickey Mouse toy and a large grin spread across her face, which gradually faded as she took in the expressions of those watching her. "What? Oh! I was going to bring presents but I didn't know how many people would be here and I didn't want to get some people presents and not others because that would be so rude. But we can go back if you want."

"Told you." LJ muttered.

Lincoln meanwhile was mentally weighing up the crazy against an even longer period of forced celibacy. He had to admit, crazy wasn't looking so bad at the moment.

……

In the end, the merry band of fugitives, Jane included, successfully found their way to Panama. Although their lives would have been much easier with the five million dollars that had escaped their grasp, they managed to support themselves by opening a highly successful ice cream business. Maricruz managed to invent several highly popular flavours during her pregnancy, much to the surprise of the others.

And of course, they lived happily ever after.

As did Kacee and her girlfriend. And C-Note, because even though they forbade him from watching, he had a very good imagination.

Dee Dee eventually realised that her parents weren't coming back, but it didn't matter too much. She knew this meant she would grow up to be an important agent, officer or scientist in a national crime-fighting organisation, with a mysterious and slightly tragic past that would be gradually revealed bit by bit as she and her crime-solving partner fell madly in love but didn't act on their feelings for at least three years.

Haywire made it to his windmill, although he still takes trips to visit his old friend Paddy and share a Guinness and some potato-related dish every now and then.

Bellick was the proud recipient of many, many scarves and sweaters which he sent to his mother to keep her happy.

So everything worked out in the end.

Even for T-Bag, who managed to get his act on the comedy circuit and now does stand up routines around the country. Reports that the majority of his audience commit suicide during the shows are unsubstantiated.

Oh, and Lincoln did indeed learn how to do up his shirt. We're all very proud of him.

The End.


End file.
